


Marks

by SubversiveSocialite



Series: To Russia, With Love [22]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (Daddy/Mommy/baby used as endearments), Comeplay, Hickeys, M/M, Multi, Possessive Behavior, Roleplay, episode six spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 20:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8768548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubversiveSocialite/pseuds/SubversiveSocialite
Summary: Even Victor gets insecure sometimes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yuri, who is never actually seen and therefore untagged, is eighteen or age of consent in the reader's jurisdiction, whichever is older.
> 
> This is for Finalay, who inspired me to write territorial!Victor. It's more of a feels fest than I anticipated, but I hope you enjoy it, my dear!

“Victor,” Yuuri complains as Victor continues to cover his ass in hickeys, “We still have a plane ride home. I need to be able to sit.”

“I’m sorry,” the silver-haired man sighs, sounding a little remorseful but not terribly repentant as he kisses a mark. “I just need to-”

Yuuri sighs, rolling onto his back and tugging Victor up by an arm. When his lover is leaning over him, a slightly worried look on his face, the black-haired man sinks a hand into Victor’s hair and presses the older man’s mouth to his neck. “Not where my costumes won’t cover,” he instructs.

Victor’s breath hitches in gratitude before he starts marking his lover again. “Thank you,” he murmurs against Yuuri’s skin like a prayer between kiss marks. “You’re so perfect, so wonderful-”

The dark-haired man just strokes Victor’s back soothingly with one hand, keeping the other pressed into his lover’s hair. “I’m yours,” he murmurs reassuringly, making Victor shudder. “Yurio and I aren’t going anywhere. You’re the only one who wants me, anyway,” he adds self-deprecatingly.

Victor nips sharply at Yuuri’s collar, grumbling. “If only. Even a narcissist like Chris wanted you,” he complains, reaching down to squeeze the black-haired man’s ass with a hand. “To say nothing of that blond fanboy of yours in Kyushu. I nearly had to pry him off with a stick after the competition.”

“Minami?” the Japanese man echoes in disbelief, voice hitching as Victor continues to suck at his skin. “Minami is only-”

“Two years older than Yurio, and more than old enough to be aware of you romantically,” the silver-haired man insists.

“He thinks of me as an idol,” Yuuri protests.

“I was _your_ idol,” Victor argues. Then his voice softens, something fragile entering his expression. “How am I supposed to compete with someone who looks at you like you can do no wrong?” 

_You **are** my idol_ , Yuuri thinks but doesn’t say. “Victor,” he sighs. “ _You_ look at me like that.”

Victor makes an unintelligible noise and goes back to marking Yuuri’s chest with renewed fervor.

Yuuri rolls his eyes, content under the warm press of Victor against him. “Do you want to come on my face, or my ass?” he inquires idly. Victor looks up at him with wild, half-lidded eyes, his face a study in tormented self-restraint.

“Your ass,” he manages at last, when he’s convinced of Yuuri’s sincerity. “Let me just-” The silver-haired man marks Yuuri’s chest several more times, pulling back when he’s satisfied with the v of marks around Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri rolls over onto his stomach complacently, listening to Victor’s labored breathing and occasional grunt as he jerks off over the dark-haired man’s ass. After a few moments there’s wet, sticky warmth against Yuuri’s skin. Victor sighs, admiring his lover’s come-and-kiss-mark-covered skin before leaning down to kiss each cheek reverently.

“So good to me,” the silver-haired man breathes in Yuuri’s ear as he shifts up, pulling Yuuri back onto him, uncaring of the mess.

Yuuri smiles fondly, although Victor can’t see it with his face pressed against Yuuri’s neck. Victor reaches out beside them, sending something clattering, and comes back with his phone. “Smile,” the silver-haired man murmurs as he takes a selfie. Yuuri, caught off-guard, turns bright red just after the first photo and starts sputtering by the third, forcing Victor to take his phone out of reach or lose it.

“ _Victor_ ,” Yuuri complains, hiding his burning face in his hands. “Wh-what are you-?”

“For Yurio,” Victor replies, sending the first two off to their lover before Yuuri has time to try and delete the photos. “Don’t worry, you look very sweet. Look.”

Yuuri dares to look up, takes in the sight of his own relaxed and content expression, then his red and flustered one, and buries his face in his hands again. “Oh god,” he moans.

Victor chuckles, kissing the top of Yuuri’s head. Victor’s phone takes that moment to chime with a response from their blond lover. “See? Yurio thinks you look lovely.”

Yuuri sighs in exasperation. “Victor, that says ‘What the fuck did you do to Mommy?’” Yuuri grumbles a little something about Yuri’s word choice that doesn’t make it past his hands.

Victor peers at the unchanged message again. His phone buzzes, and then again, and again, producing several more texts from the blond. “Ooh, he’s threatening me again. He’s so cute when he does that.” As he gets to the last text, Victor smiles in triumph. “There, see?”

Yuuri does see, and turns redder at the praise than he had been at the first text. “Victor,” he begs, and the silver-haired man smiles as he puts down his phone. He tips Yuuri’s face towards him, leaning up so he can kiss his lover.

“Thank you,” he murmurs against Yuuri’s lips. “I apologize for getting carried away.”

Yuuri gives him a very unconvinced look, absently running a hand over the pattern of hickeys near his collarbones. “You can make it up to me in the bath,” he declares, getting up and sauntering over to the bathroom.

Victor admires his retreating form, but doesn’t wait very long to follow. “Of course, darling,” he murmurs as he shuts the bathroom door behind them. “Whatever you want.”


End file.
